Time to Mend
by morninghart
Summary: "Once you're hurt, you stay hurt." Missing scenes and snippets from Suffragette City and Let's Dance, so some spoilers. The song is "Time to Mend" by Barcelona. Please read and review, thanks!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Time to Mend

**Summary**: "Once you're hurt, you stay hurt." Missing scenes and snippets from Suffragette City and Let's Dance, so some spoilers. The song is "Time to Mend" by Barcelona. Please read and review, thanks!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Covert Affairs or the characters herein.

* * *

_Lock down and close it fast,_

_You're done with the day, done with the day_

_Don't speak, so I won't laugh_

_I know what you'll say, _

_I hear what you say..._

_Please be my love, please hold me, love._

* * *

_I need you, Annie. I never need anyone, but I need you._

**oOoOoOo**_  
_

The monotonous, penetrating sound echoed against the faded walls of a room in which the smell of disinfectant overwhelmed the senses. Even in the best of times, the numbing cold would have still felt disquieting and unwelcome. Listening for a break in the oppressive sound, Auggie's throat began to constrict until he could barely swallow. In that moment, as the sound grew louder and louder in his head, he had never wanted so much to be able to see again as he did then. The tremors in his hand vibrated against the tension that hung in the air around him as he hoped beyond hope that these would not be the last moments he had with her. A burning sensation began to overtake his chocolate eyes as his stomach continued its acrobatics and his head swam. If it had been any other time, any other person or place, he would have never admitted to himself as he did now that this was the most afraid he had ever been in his life. He needed her.

After all that he had tried to do, he had fought for her innocence and found the traitor amongst them, it did not seem to make a difference at all; not for Annie. His hands gripped his cane with such force that his knuckles were a vivid white as he bit down hard on his tongue in an attempt to keep the tears from falling with tentative success. Although he had dealt with the deaths of colleagues and friends with a brave face before, he did not think he could make it through this one - not if it was her. If he lost her, it would unravel him from the inside out. His heart slammed against his ribcage with terrible force and felt like lead with the weight of all the things he never said. A wave of nausea rolled over him as he tried to reason with himself that this happens in their line of work. He could not bring himself to believe it: these things did not happen to Annie Walker. Not to his Annie.

When things had gotten too tough for him, he had shut down and shut her out. He had pushed so hard and so far, and a part of him blamed himself for the whole mess with Simon. Perhaps if he had not pushed her away things would not have gotten so complicated. Now, he was standing here trying to pull her back in his mind - to bring her back to him - but he could not focus. His ears were straining so hard to hear a sign, a notion, of the life left in her; but instead it was just the same piercing wail. He needed her heart to beat again. It did not matter if it never beat for him, he just needed it to beat. Annie was his best friend, and whenever he spent time thinking about it he knew it was more than that. She was more than that. She completed him and it was unimportant if they were friends or lovers; he just needed her. In his heart, he knew that without her he would just self-destruct. He had been self-destructing for a while when he met her for the first time. And if she died here, in this awful cold room, she would never know. She would never know how much she mattered or what she meant to him.

Auggie could feel the muscles in his face struggling to maintain composure, and with much effort he managed to not show how much he was crumbling beneath his façade. He was becoming so lost in himself that he almost missed the hand that grazed his arm to make him aware of its owner's presence. And for a moment, Joan's erratic breathing managed to reach him. But soon after, all of his attention went back to the deafening beep that remained unbroken and overtook his senses. Nothing mattered except the woman before him on the hospital bed. If he lost Annie, he would lose everything.

Suddenly, his knees buckled and his legs nearly gave way at the sound of a gasp; one he recognized immediately. All of the air rushed out of his lungs in one sudden motion, and it was then that he realized that he had been holding it all in. The sound of her pulse began to permeate the room and he closed his eyes tight against the tears that once again threatened to spill out. His breathing ragged, he stumbled a bit on his weak legs and leaned against the wall nearest the door as he listened to each beat of her heart. He was reminded for a second time that Joan was also bearing this with him when she rested her forehead against his shoulder and let out a deep sigh of relief. It had not been too late; Annie was alive and for now, that was enough.


	2. Chapter 2

_You keep it all choked up -_

_It can't get away, can't get away_

_Detailed, impressive dove -_

_It's full of decay, it's full of decay._

* * *

Although the hospital room was now littered with colorful balloons and offerings of desserts, it felt just as terrible as it had when Annie had been in a coma. The smell of disinfectant had been so unrelenting that Auggie offered to purchase some flowers from the gift shop to help cover it up, and she did not protest. That had not been too long ago, perhaps a couple of days at most, but the cream-colored roses had already started wilting. Regardless, she refused to let them be removed.

"These are in awful shape," Auggie said while taking his normal evening post in the seat next to her bed and running his fingers up one of the stems.

"They're fine, Auggie," she muttered as her eyes followed a petal floating down to the tiled floor beneath him. He shrugged and scooted the chair closer to her bed before holding out his hand.

It would have been hard to explain how much Auggie Anderson had changed since he had met Annie Walker. The changes had been subtle and attributed to growing older and wiser, and he still was not sure if she was the reason he changed. But he knew that because of her, he had felt a little better about the world no matter how messed up it felt or seemed. And all the games he had been playing before, they came crashing down alongside the walls that her waves ate at like a river through rock. Before he knew it, he was here rejoicing in the fact that she had lived another day and that she would fight another fight. Still, he was upset at the fact that she had hidden things from him and he had hidden things from her too. Shutting her out was the worst thing he had ever done in his life, and that spoke volumes considering his past experiences.

When Annie had come back for him instead of going after the package in Barcelona, he had been so full of anger and misdirected it onto her. It stemmed from his blindness - something that he had never wanted to accept and it had been eating at his confidence for a long time prior. Familiar faces had begun to fade over time, and some people he never got to see at all. He loathed the moments he spent within the darkness of his head, and all that hatred and anger came out. It was not just the fading faces or loss of visuals in his memory, it was also the fact that most people - including himself - felt he was so much less capable. But instead of confronting the real issue, he let his anger and insecurities get the better of him: he felt like Annie saw him like he saw himself. And that was too much for him to take, so he started rebuilding that wall brick by damning brick. He could not have felt more responsible for the state she was in now. If he had never pushed her away, if he had just held on, she would have never been without a safety net. He had abandoned her. Although it would never be enough, he could make this ordeal easier for her; he had been through this. It would not be enough but it would have to do.

He propped his head up with one hand and held hers in the other as they sat in the same silence that often accompanied them since she had awoken. His fingers traced little circled into her palm and every so often her hand would clutch his as she let out a soft sob. Aware of her tears, he had a feeling that this was a time when he needed to let her cry; empty words had no place between them. So, here he sat every evening listening to the delicate melody of Annie Walker's broken heart.

There had been a few times over the last week when he was unsure if he should stay or go, but she never let him leave if she was awake. Her small fingers would wrap around his hand so tightly as her sobs would grow louder; so he stayed. And because her heart broke, his broke as well. The truth was, his had been breaking for a long time - maybe hers had been too.

And this is how he has spent each night: sitting with her in a room haunted with her cries, the memory of how he almost lost her, and all the lies between them. He almost broke on the third night, but he managed to hold it together for her. Sometimes, it took all he had to just sit with his eyes closed so she would not see just how hard it was. But when he would go home, well after she fell asleep, he would just collapse on the nearest surface and break down. At times it was the floor, other times the couch and sometimes he even managed to get to his bed. Wherever he ended up, that is where he lost everything he had tried so hard to build. His sobs were silent and his body was unmoving. His hands covered his face and he would just scream his loudest, even if it only was ever in his head.


	3. Chapter 3

_Give it space my love - give it time, my love,_

_Oh, oh listen, hear me._

_I won't be too far honest,_

_Trust me, I've been you before._

* * *

"Not bad," Auggie seemed to be choosing his words while trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in his hands. Over time, Annie's tears had turned into anger, and she was not afraid of sharing that with him too.

"The jab is back, right?" The question was thrown around more like a statement, but his sigh deterred her confidence. "Right, Auggie?"

"I heard about last night," he started after a few moments. He had hoped that he would not have had to have this conversation, but that seemed impossible at this point. "I know from firsthand experience what it's like to push too hard after a trauma."

"I'm not."

Both he and she knew better than that.

"I am, but what's wrong about wanting to get back on your feet?" She tried to sound casual but he could still feel something hiding beneath her words.

"It's not just about your feet. You lost someone. It's about your heart. I can feel you wanting to get back into the field and make it right, but it's not time." It was something he had been avoiding bringing up. He knew he should have tried having this talk sooner, but it was common knowledge that if Annie Walker gets something in her head it was damn near impossible to stop her - and no one knew that better than he did.

"All I'm thinking about is my footwork."

"Footwork's good. Breaking into other people's houses not so good."

"Put 'em back up," she demanded. Her deflection was not lost on him, but with a discontented sigh he complied. Within moments, her heavy swings were interrupted by a slight grunt of pain.

"You alright?" His voice managed to mask some of his concern. She failed to even breathe while nodding her head in silence even though she knew he could not see the gesture.

"I'm okay," she spoke after another moment, "I'm okay."

He tried to suppress another sigh because the truth was that they both knew she was not okay; neither was he. And yet here Annie and he were, dancing around the lies and the truth - and in the end each other - just like they always did.

As her fists started back into rhythm, he drew in a sharp breath of frustration. He was growing tired of them dancing around each other instead of dancing with each other. She would be terse and bite at him, but he tried to be patient. He had been where she was and knew how she was feeling. In fact, if anyone in the world knew how she felt it was him, and he would have done anything to take it away from her. But she had learned one of the hardest lessons of the business and there was nothing he wanted more than for her to go back to being the foolish romantic she had been before. She had said once that she liked that he was always the optimist, but she was wrong; there were times she needed an optimist, and so he became that.

Auggie began to wonder about how he could have been so oblivious to the moment that they started lying to one another and hiding things. He hated that they had shut each other out, lied to each other, and that they were lying to each other now in the silence. It should have been expected of them to lie and lie well, and they certainly did, but it did not make it any easier. And even though he blamed himself for the chasm growing between them, he felt that even with all their faults they still managed to hold each other up. At the end of the day, all their lies and all their silence became afterthoughts in the deafening static of the ocean waves. The firm grip they had on each other was sometimes the only thing left they could feel. And there were times he knew they both wished they felt nothing at all, but it was never when they were beside each other. It was the only time the emptiness and weight in their hearts seemed to be less.

But maybe he was just being an optimist now.


	4. Chapter 4

_This world is all turned around,_

_We're caught in this place, stalled in this place._

_Don't let it kill you now._

_We're not here to stay, we're not here to stay._

* * *

The moment the words had escaped her mouth, Annie had wanted to take them all back. She had built up her walls and she never even meant to - she had never wanted to keep him out. At first, the walls were built when she had to keep things from him because of the agency, but now it was just habit. And all she could feel was hatred for it because all she wanted to do was pour it all out and let his words come rushing in, but she kept it all inside instead. Annie had learned her lesson about misplaced trust. Even though she knew better and trusted him with her life, she could not bring herself to trust him with the mess that was left in her head and her heart. And what made it worse was that he knew.

"Auggie, I -"

"It's alright," he lied. "I just wanted to check in with you and see how you were doing."

"I'm fine," she lied too.

He wanted to tell her how much he hated this and began to wonder if she hated it too. These games, they just kept playing them. He shifted the phone against his ear as he fumbled in his fridge for a beer.

"I should go," she hesitated for a moment, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"That makes on of us," he said without a thought. The silence that followed did not sit well in his stomach. No laughter. No smile. Nothing. He clenched his jaw before taking a swig of his freshly opened beer.

"Goodbye, Auggie."

"Goodnight, Annie," he emphasised his words by speaking it as a breath and fought back a sigh until he heard her disconnect. He had not even thought about what he was doing until his fist made contact with the wall behind him. The lies were becoming unbearable and the fact that they both just kept doing it drove him mad. It was hard to imagine that either of them had worked so hard for this - worked so hard to become people they hated. Again his fist made contact will the wall before he took another long drink. No matter what either of them tried to do, the silence just came roaring it. It was like the snow in winter. It was disorienting and frustrating, and nothing could make it stop coming. Here he was drowning in the silence and she was drowning in pain; and neither of them could make it all stop. In less than eight months, their lives - everything about who they were - had been turned, tried, and tested in so many ways that he could not have even imagined it in his darkest times.

It almost felt like it did when he had returned home from Iraq, but this time he could not just sit in his head for weeks on end like he had then. The nightmares were not the same - they were cryptic and confusing now - and still were happening when he woke up. He was living a nightmare right now; and the broken Annie he talked to every day had become, like his blindness, a constant reminder of everything that was lost. The pain within the darkness of his heart had grown over the last few months. Not only did Auggie hurt because of himself, he was also bleeding for her. Annie was being reckless and foolish, and if he failed to pay attention she would destroy herself. She had felt so much. She had hoped so much. Now it was all gone, and if the puzzle did not get put back together again he would have truly lost his best friend. And maybe he already had.

His lips went for another sip of his beer but he was surprised to find that the bottle was empty. He took a deep breath and, to the chorus of shattering glass, wondered if she was aware that he knew she was slipping off to Russia tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** A big thank you to das1771.

* * *

_Well, close your eyes, my love, and let it rise, my love._

_Oh, oh listen, and hear me 'cause I won't be too far._

_Honest, trust me, 'cause I've been you before._

_It's not the end, 'cause you still have time to mend._

_It's not the end, 'cause you still have time._

* * *

"You figured it was better if you didn't drive?" Annie stated more than asked.

_"_I'm just working on my footwork," Auggie mimicked causing her to scoff in response, but she climbed in the car without another word. "This is a plane ticket. And keys to the apartment of one Pinja Stanis, former CIA asset."

"Former?"

"Because she's dead, Annie. This is the kind of mission where every question you ask is going to have a scary answer." His voice echoed the seriousness and tension written on his face. "Due to the high risk nature, all contact with Langley has to be cut off. Now, even though I disagree with all of this, I want you to know that I am here for you no matter what."

"That means so much to me. I hope you know that," the last sentence caused her voice to break. Even though he noticed, he failed to mention it and instead searched for the right words to say.

"Glad we got that out there. Have a nice trip," he said it a bit colder than he had intended, but regardless he reached and started to get out. She reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving.

"Auggie...could you just ride out to the airport with me?"

The next few moments he spent debating on if he should or if he was even able to. Annie and he had failed to talk about it, and still would not talk about it. His feelings were hurt and had stayed hurt. The world still felt torn asunder, and here she was: she was going to go and not tell him she was leaving. And it hurt. But this could have been the last time he heard her voice or felt her presence. Annie could die over there and he did not want his last moments with her to have been as cold as they had been. Nothing he could have said would have changed her mind. He would have been doing the same thing as she was, but that did not mean he wanted her to go. The last few months had made him grow more protective of her than he could have imagined. People had used her. People had lied to her. People had hurt her so deeply that he was not sure if she would ever be the same girl again. So, he shut the door and braced himself. He could do this for her - this was the least he could do.

The car began to move and he felt the slightest twitch of her hand. At first it had started to leave his arm but, after a moment's hesitation, it slid down to his hand and intertwined with his. Biting down on his tongue, he turned his face to the window and did his best to ignore the fact that he could feel her watching him. He closed his eyes and they stayed closed, but involuntarily his grasp on her hand tightened. And in that moment, all he could do was memorize the texture of her skin and the warmth it emitted; he then realized how cold his hands were compared to hers. Each breath he brought in was nothing but the scent of her and he just memorized it too. It was a fresh, bright citrus tone accompanied by a distant burning spice. It was Annie Walker. She was brilliant and uplifting, and had a burning passion that came through as nothing but strength. It was something he loved about her and he wanted to remember all of it. A knot formed in his throat as her fingers brushed against his and he even felt the sensation in the pit of his stomach. He wondered if she was documenting him like he had been documenting her; filing each other away because both of them expected the worst. And even though he expected the worst, she was still leaving and he was letting her. To his chagrin, he began to remember Barcelona and had no idea why it had come to mind again, but this felt like Barcelona in reverse. No one was feigning happiness. No one was leaving with any hope. And she was leaving him instead of him leaving her.

"Annie..." he spoke as he mind continued to race.

"Hm?"

"If you go too far -"

"What?"

"If there comes a point where you are going to go too far," he searched for the words, "just think it through, okay?"

"Of course," Annie replied and squeezed his hand. For a moment, he looked as though he had something else he wanted to say but he said nothing else.

This time he was letting her go.

The knot in his throat grew tighter once the car rolled to a stop less than ten minutes later. It was too soon. He then felt her hesitation and she had felt his. That moment was brief though, and in the next moment she had brought her arm around his neck and was hugging him. More instinct than thought, he responded and pulled her as close as he could. He breathed her in one last time. He still could not speak. Her lips grazed his cheek and her breath covered him in a warmth only she could.

"I'll see you soon," she whispered.

It did not sound like their normal goodbye, but then again it was not their normal goodbye. This one hung in the air with such finality that neither of them could swallow it. He tightened the embrace before releasing her, and then all too soon she was gone. The door slammed shut and her scent began to disappear almost as fast as she had. Grazing his hand against where she had been sitting, he tried to feel as much of the warmth that she had left behind as he could; and then it too was gone. And in that moment, for the first time since he could remember, August Anderson did not care who saw him cry.

**oOoOoOo**


End file.
